


Dancing in the Rain

by Oxford



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Drabble, F/M, M/M, More to Follow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxford/pseuds/Oxford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tallstar is an impulsive new leader, and Deadfoot his wiser, exasperated deputy. They get into all kinds of shenanigans together, involving badgers, kittypets, and ThunderClan. This is incomplete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Rain

Tallstar chases after a rabbit, his long legs eating up the ground, and his tail streaming out behind him. Deadfoot watches from the ridge, and sighs deeply. Once again he is left behind. The deputy limps after his leader, taking his time. This is a recurring theme on their solo hunting escapades. He’s not worried.

But the rabbit is desperate. It has strayed too far from its burrow, and has no other option. To discourage its hunter, the rabbit darts around the side of a slope, where it knows death lies. Tallstar, intoxicated by the freedom of the moor, follows the rabbit without looking, and runs straight into a mound of black and white fur. 

Deadfoot has been watching a bird circle above him, and has deduced that it is a vulture when a screech of horror comes from Tallstar’s direction. Deadfoot’s eyes widen and he is off, limping as fast as he can toward the source of the sound. Unlike Tallstar, he is not chasing a rabbit, so he can take a much more direct route. He goes straight over the hills and down the other side. He is, of course, much surprised at what he finds when he crosses the hill Tallstar is behind.

He lets out a yowl of fury and charges down the slope, all limps forgotten, and canons into the badger’s side. Deadfoot is small, but his momentum sends the badger reeling, and it releases Tallstar from its vicelike jaws. The leader drops the ground and lies very still. Deadfoot yowls again, this one of pain and disbelief. He throws himself at the badger in a fury of claws and teeth, all the while screaming Tallstar’s name. Tallstar groans, and hauls himself to his paws. The badger nearly bit through his shoulder, and he is dripping blood. He shakes his head, trying to clear it. There is a loud buzzing in his ears, and he can’t hear Deadfoot. But he hears it when an angry roar comes from behind him, in the badger’s set. Another one lumbers out, this one a little small, though still full grown. Tallstar is immediately alert, and hisses at the new badger. He doesn’t get a chance to attack, however, because Deadfot is thrown into him, sending both of them crashing to the ground.

“Tallstar, we have to run,” Deadfoot growls in the other’s ear, accidently spraying his leader with blood and spit. Tallstar nods, looking a little out of it again, and Deadfoot wonders if he can actually run or not. Well, they were about to find out. Tallstar mutters something intelligible, and crouches as if preparing to take off. Deadfoot does the same, eyeing the two badgers, who seem to be waiting for them to make their move. Tallstar doesn’t wait for a signal, however, and moves like lightening, taking Deadfoot by surprise. He ran straight at the hill, barrelling up it. Badgers were slower than cats, and Tallstar knew from experience they disliked hills. Deadfoot was always amazed at how fast he could go, and today, even bleeding out, was no different. He follows Tallstar up the hill, though at nowhere near the same pace. The badgers lumber after them, and Deadfoot feels a strike of panic. If they attack again, he and Tallstar are no match for them. Thankfully, the badgers decide it isn’t worth it and return to their set. Deadfoot yells after Tallstar, telling him it’s okay now, but Tallstar doesn’t seem to hear him. Deadfoot struggles to catch up, blinking the blood from his eyes. When he can see again, Tallstar is nowhere in sight – how ironic. Deadfoot can easily tell which way he went, though. The trail of blood isn’t particularly hard to decipher. 

“Tallstar?” Deadfoot asks, concern in his voice. It hadn’t taken him long to return to his leader’s side, as Tallstar had collapsed after several fox-lengths. Now Deadfoot was crouching next to him, and examining his wounds. He rakes up a wad of conveniently-placed moss and dabs at the flow of blood.  
Tallstar, despite the blood flowing from his shoulder, grins at his deputy. Deadfoot rolls his eyes expressively, and pressed the wad of moss onto his wounds. They had barely escaped from the two badgers, and Tallstar thought it was _funny_. 

“Stop laughing, Tallstar. We almost _died_.” Deadfoot scolds him sternly. Very few would have even thought of doing such a thing, but Deadfoot and Tallstar were closer than most leaders and deputies. 

“Oh, lighten up, Deadfoot. It was an adventure.” Tallstar shrugs his shoulders and winces. Deadfoot wonders how he could possibly forget the horrendous injuries for even a moment. He holds his leader’s gaze and sees, for a moment, that Tallstar is afraid. Not for himself. Deadfoot sees so much fear there that he almost recoils, but stops himself. He understands, now, that Tallstar is hiding his fear and insecurity behind laughter and optimism. Tallstar seems to realize that and looks away. The wall goes back up.

“Tallstar,” Deadfoot says, gently, but not as if he was speaking to a child. “We should get back to camp. You need to see Barkface.” 

“You’re injured as well,” Tallstar points out, and gestures at Deadfoot’s bloodied face and shredded flank. Even the slight movement causes him to cringe, and Deadfoot frowns. Like Tallstar, he is not worried about his own health. His priority is Tallstar, and Tallstar’s is Deadfoot. “I can easily get Barkface.”

“Absolutely not.” Deadfoot refuses to give in, and hoists his leader to his paws. “Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.” Tallstar grunts in pain but makes no protest. He leans heavily on Deadfoot, and the two limp back together. 

“I’m technically still your mentor, you know.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

**

“What in the name of StarClan happened?” is the first thing that comes out of Barkface’s mouth when he spies Tallstar and Deadfoot limping into camp. He hurries over, mouth agape, but his demeanour quickly becomes solemn and business-like again. Deadfoot starts to explain, and Barkface cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear it. Webpaw! Help me get them to the den!” A scrawny apprentice appears as if summoned, and supports Deadfoot with his shoulder. Deadfoot grudgingly notices that he is stronger than he looks, though still mutters that he can walk himself. “Nonsense, you’re both exhausted,” Barkface says dismissively, propping up Tallstar. He seems not to notice the bright red blood staining his dark brown fur, though he does watch Tallstar carefully, who is barely conscious. Deadfoot shakes his head, trying to clear the spots before his eyes, and Webpaw grunts, shifting his weight as to support the deputy better.

“I’m…I’m perfectly capable,” Deadfoot murmured, more audibly this time. A young warrior rushes over to help, but Deadfoot can’t tell who it is. A tabby…he shakes his head again, failing to resist the darkness that is filling his vision. The last thing he registers is the world tilting on a ninety degree angle, and an explosion of pain as his head collides with the ground.

**

Deadfoot struggles to open his eyes. His eyelids seem abnormally heavy, but when he does get them open, he wishes he hadn’t, because pain immediately shoots through every inch of his body. Wincing, the black tom forces himself to sit up. Well, partially. His eyes take a moment to focus, and when they do, he finds himself taking in the gorse medicine den. Tallstar is lying in a nest across from him, apparently asleep. A strong, and poignant, emotion rises within him at the sight of his leader, and a smile rises unbidden to his features. Tallstar stirs in his sleep, grimacing, and Deadfoot’s smile vanishes.

“I see you’re awake then,” pipes a cheerful voice from the corner. Deadfoot expects Barkface, so he is surprised to see Runningpaw, another small apprentice. She smiles at him, though Deadfoot thinks he glimpses a hint of apprehension in her gaze. It is a bit frightening to be left alone with the leader and deputy, but why would Barkface –? “Barkface has the apprentices watching you in shifts,” Runningpaw explains. “I’ve only just replaced Whitepaw.” 

“Where’s Barkface?” Deadfoot demands weakly, confused as to why the medicine cat would leave apprentices in charge. There must be a good reason. Runningpaw blinks, processing the question. 

“He’s, um, he’s not here,” she stumbles over her words, uncertain what to say. “He’s out on the moor, with Tornear. They…they are gathering herbs,” she finishes rather lamely. Deadfoot frowns, and narrows his eyes. He has the peculiar feeling that Runningpaw is not telling him everything. He opens his mouth to question her further, a hard look on his face, when a peal of thunder sounds outside, followed quickly by a brilliant flash of lightning. Deadfoot flinches, and Tallstar jerks awake. He looks around wildly, his eyes oddly glazed, then slumps over, unconscious once more. Deadfoot rises, ignoring his painful wounds, and hastens to his leader’s side.

“Tallstar?” he whispers anxiously, and gently places a paw on Tallstar’s forehead. He can feel the heat radiating even through his thick pad, and he frowns. “Runningpaw, where has Barkface gone?”

“He’s gone to gather herbs – no, really! Tallstar developed a fever last night and we didn’t have any feverfew, so Barkface took Tornear to find some by the river.” Her eyes are wide and scared, and Deadfoot recalls that Tornear is her father. His expression softens a little, but then Tallstar lets out a low moan, and it starts pouring rain outside. There are shrieks of surprise, and the sounds that several young warriors make when scurrying for cover. “They should have been back by now.” Runningpaw adds, her voice trembling. Deadfoot casts her a look, then returns his attention to Tallstar. The black and white tom twitches in his sleep and moans again. Deadfoot curses under his breath, then jumps in surprise as someone outside begins whooping gleefully. They are start laughing as well, and shortly other voices joined in. 

“What in the name of StarClan–” he begins, stepping outside angrily, but freezes at the sight that meets his eyes. The other two apprentices and a few young warriors are splashing about in a few fast-formed puddles, paying no mind to the torrential rain. Despite his wounds, a smile springs to the deputy’s face. The rain seems to exhilarate the youngsters– he decides not to scold them. Let them have their fun, while they still can. Webpaw jumps on Onewhisker from behind, sending them both tumbling down to the ground. They both spring up, their pelts plastered with mud. Whitepaw laughs loudly, and Webpaw springs at her, rubbing her bright white fur with his filthy paw. She shrieks, and Runningpaw streaks past Deadfoot, nearly knocking him off his paws. She leaps to her sister’s defense, sending Webpaw flying back into the mud with a hefty kick from her back legs. 

“Tornear’s her father, you know,” a voice murmurs in Deadfoot’s ear, and he whips around. Tallstar is standing behind him, looking weak and feverish. Blood drips from underneath the cobwebs on his shoulder, and his eyes are glazed. Deadfoot has a sickening feeling in his stomach that tells him Tallstar is not all there. “I’m so glad you came and visited me, Jake,” he adds, his voice trembling. 

“I – I’m not Jake,” Deadfoot tells him gently, and at that moment, two lithe shapes come bounding down the side of the hollow. 

“Deadfoot, I’ve – Tallstar!” Barkface looks positively horrified to see his leader out an about. Tornear, who is holding a bundle of herbs in his mouth, flicks his tail and sends Deadfoot a questioning look. “What – back in the den, right this moment!” Tallstar sways on his feet, clearly making a massive effort to stay awake.

“Shrewclaw, what are you jabbering on about? You’re not a medicine cat,” Tallstar replies, a bemused expression on his face. Barkface looks stricken, and without warning Deadfoot, pushes between the two, disappearing into the gorse den. Tornear follows, eyeing Tallstar warily. Deadfoot lays his tail on Tallstar’s shoulders, taking care to avoid the leaking poultice. 

“Come inside, Tallstar,” he suggests quietly, but forcefully, and to his surprise, Tallstar breaks into a grin. 

“Of course, Jake! Whatever you wish,” Tallstar says with a little chuckle, and Deadfoot forces a smile. His insides feel as if they are shrivelling up, which his is pretty sure has nothing to do with his wounds. As he leads Tallstar back into Barkface’s den, he wonders briefly who Jake is. 

“He’s delirious,” Barkface mutters in his ear, banishing all thoughts of Jake from his head. “not thinking straight. You need to give him these poppy seeds, understand? He won’t take them from me, not if he thinks I’m Shrewclaw.” He shook the hull of a dried-up poppy over Deadfoot’s upturned paw, and several tiny, dark seeds fell onto his pad. “Give him as many as you can,” he continues, with a grim tone of voice. Deadfoot nods, and moves back toward Tallstar, who has returned to his nest and is chatting animatedly with Tornear, who looks undeniably uncomfortable.

“Listen carefully, Pigeonpaw, this is very important – are you listening? Good. You need to find Stagleap and tell him – Jake!” Tallstar turns his feverishly bright eyes on Deadfoot, and Tornear hurries away, looking relieved not to be the focus of Tallstar’s attention anymore. “What are you doing here?” he asks delightedly. 

“Visiting you, of course,” Deadfoot plays along, his voice dull. “Here – eat this.” Deadfoot holds his paw over Tallstar’s mouth, and he opens it obediently. He shakes the seeds into his leader’s mouth, and watches as Tallstar swallows them without a second thought. 

“What was that?” he inquires, but his eyes are already closing. Barkface sighs in relief, and wastes no time in changing Tallstar’s poultices. Deadfoot frowns – the wounds, his own included, seem much more healed than he would have thought. A sense of dread began to dawn on him – it would explain why he was so ravishingly hungry. 

"Barkface,” he began, his voice oddly calm. “How long was I out?” The medicine cat avoids his gaze, and busies himself mashing feverfew leaves into a pulp with a rock. “Barkface?” Deadfoot asks again, in a harder voice.

“Only three days,” Barkface murmurs, keeping his eyes on the feverfew. 

“Three days? That’s not possible!” Deadfoot protests, shaking his head adamantly. How could he have been unconscious for three whole days? How had the Clan functioned without their leader and deputy? All the variables pointed to it, but it was still hard to believe.

“Very possible, in fact,” Barkface counters, scooping up the feverfew past and dribbling it into Tallstar’s open mouth. “Rub his throat, would you?” Deadfoot obliged out of politeness, massaging his throat with one paw until Tallstar swallowed reflexively. “We managed. Mudclaw was very helpful.”

“ _Mudclaw?_ ”

“Yes, Mudclaw. We made an arrangement. He would act as deputy, and I would continue in my duties. Saved me a lot of trouble.” Deadfoot stares at the medicine cat, though not really seeing him. How was it possible that they had been unconscious for three days? He must have woken up between then and now. The tom tries to recall his most recent memories, and finds little. Now that he knows, however, he can remember a brief period, probably yesterday, when he was awake for a moment, with Barkface hovering above him, and Tallstar muttering in the background.

“But…” finally he is forced to accept it. Barkface is still avoiding his gaze, appearing to tend Tallstar’s wounds, of which there are plenty. Deadfoot sits down in his makeshift nest, legs suddenly to weak to hold him. “Barkface?"

“Yes?”

“The Gathering is tomorrow night.”


End file.
